Molly's Bad Day
by Orlaine24
Summary: No...she couldn't.. Her fingers, acting subconsciously began to untie the bag and empty the contents into a dish... You've seen what it's done to him...it's a stupid idea...but quiet might be nice for a few hours...peace and quiet...
1. Chapter 1

Molly Hooper's Bad Day

1.

Molly Hooper gazed at herself in the mirror. She recognised the look of tiredness in her eyes. It had become a part of who she was these days. Once they had been bright and full of curiosity, now they were dull and disinterested. She couldn't put a finger exactly on when she had changed, when she had become numb inside. Her hair was not neatly tied back but instead was falling over her pale face. Her make-up lay untouched in the drawer beside her mirror. She hadn't ventured there in several weeks.

She was torn away from her reverie as her phone beeped on the table. She turned slowly. Another message from Sherlock. He could wait, she was fed up with him and his stupid games. How often had she been there for him and he had waved it off as nothing more than a monkey following orders. He would never reciprocate the feelings she held for him, and no-one else would ever come close. She was on her own and that's they way it would be. She lifted a hand to wipe away a tear. This made her angry. _Still crying over that stupid man Molly. He doesn't love you, he never will._ The phone beeped again and reluctantly she slid it open.

Need you in the lab ASAP. SH

Molly I'm getting impatient. SH

Slowly she pulled on her coat and made her way to the front door, inwardly cursing herself for giving in once again. There was no point ignoring him, he would always find away to lure her into another case. It was a crisp morning and her breath rose like steam in front of her as she closed the door to her flat. There was a crowd beginning to flow into the city now and cars were lined up in traffic. Typical Saturday mornings in London. Tourists and shoppers trying to get from A to B as quickly as possible. She needed a holiday, her life was too busy and the world too full of noisy inconsiderate people. She opened the creaking gate and let that wishful thought escape from her mind.

"Sorry " apologised a young man as he careered into her on the footpath outside. He seemed to be in quite a hurry.

"It's fine"she replied slightly winded but no worse for wear. He hadn't really stopped anyway. A minute later she understood why he was in a rush. Two police officers sprinted round the corner and appeared to be chashing him.

Her phone rang in her pocket and she pulled it out. John was apparently trying to get in touch. She answered it warily.

"Yes John I know I'm taking far too long...Sherlock can bloody wait!" she said rather abruptly before he had the chance to talk.

"Oh Molly...sorry emm...it's just that we need you to umm..." here John seemed to refer back to his friend to gain the correct terminology.

"We need you to 'stitch his bloody hand back together so that he can catch the Old Rope Poisoner'" John had clearly been repeating Sherlock's statement word for word; he finished with a little cough and Molly responded slightly less annoyed

"I'll be there as soon as I can!"

Although she wasn't in the best mood she guessed that if John hadn't sorted Sherlock's hand out it must be pretty bad.

It was only when she was putting her phone away that she noticed something else in her pocket. She pulled out a small plastic bag which seemed to contain a fine white powder. Cocaine, she presumed, from the man who had been avoiding the police no doubt. She placed it back in her pocket,making a mental note to dispose of it safely at the lab in case it made its way into the hands of someone who shouldn't really have it.

Fifteen minutes later she was pushing the door to her office open and found herself in the presence of the world's only consulting detective and his doctor. John smiled apologetically as she entered and nodded his head to the corner of the room. Her eyes met Sherlock's as she turnedher head in his direction.

"Says he won't let me near it! Something about leaving a scar last time..." whispered John as Molly began to prepare the equipment she would need. There was a scoff from behind them and Sherlock retorted

"Yes indeed John it really was a botched job you did...better to have someone more suitable this time!" Sherlock failed to mention that last time they had been in the middle of nowhere with no medical supplies and John had done a pretty damn good job in a bad set of circumstances.

"Molly I understand that you are in a bad mood but please time is of the essence here..." he continued. Molly was beginning to feel annoyance bubble to the surface once again and she banged her hand off the bench she had been organising on.

"If you want me to do this Sherlock you better sit down and be quiet!" John looked shocked as he hadn't seen Molly this agitated towards Sherlock in quite some time.

"Molly are you ok?" he asked softly, trying to diffuse whatever had caused the situation which was unfolding in front of him.

"I'm just fine...absolutely fine"

"Then can we proceed before any more damage is done to my hand" interrupted Sherlock holding his hand out on the bench for Molly to work on. Sherlock, throughout the process decided to tell Molly how to do her job and by the time she had finished she was fed up. It was always the same with Sherlock, opinions on everything. She didn't know why it bothered her any more than usual but it really had today. Maybe it was the thought of a holiday still sitting in the back of her mind or maybe it was something else, but she really had had enough. She got up and asked them as politely as possible to leave her alone. They obliged, however, John who was not blind to human emotion, gave her shoulder a light squeeze of understanding as he passed.

As the door closed she collapsed into her chair and sighed deeply. She reached for her coat to retrieve her phone and the plastic bag fell out. It had completely slipped her mind and she lifted it onto the desk. She stared at it, a thought forming in her mind. A holiday was not going to happen in the near future as she had too much work on but maybe...just maybe there was another option to escape her depressing existance. No...she couldn't.. Her fingers, acting subconsciously began to untie the bag and empty the contents into a dish...

 _You've seen what it's done to him...it's a stupid idea...but quiet might be nice for a few hours...peace and quiet..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Molly's Bad Day**

 **A/N: Thank you kindly for the support on the first chapter. Here's another...let me know whether I should continue.**

Molly opened her eyes blearily, for a moment not sure of her surroundings. Her head was pounding and her throat was parched. She sat up and reached for a glass of water she found beside her. She had no recollection of how it had gotten there, or in fact where there was. She appeared to be in a dimly lit room, alone, but warm. She stood up and made her way slowly to the window at the far side of the room. She recognised the street outside and, in fact, was very close to her own flat geographically. How had she ended up here?

Suddenly a wave of memory flooded her mind. Pictures and thoughts from the day before raced through her mind. She had been angry at Sherlock (not unusual), there had been the young man, the drugs, her lab.

 _What have you done Molly? Surely you weren't that stupid! It's only Sherlock..._

Fear began to rise in the pit of her stomach as her gaze turned towards the sleeve covering her left arm. She clenched her fist and felt a stab of pain in her arm. Slowly and very unwillingly she rolled back the sleeve and stared at the small puncture mark still visible on her forearm. She combed her memories but could not remember the moment when she had become a user. The details were hazy and this scared her more than anything else. She turned from the window and gazed at the room once more. It wasn't by any means dingy or delapedated which surprised her as she had expected it to be so; too many of the stories she heard began like that she supposed. In the corner stood a cabinet full of photo frames and momentoes of a life well lived. She moved towards it and noted the happy family on a range of trips. A mother, father and two boys without a care in the world. A smile crept across her face as hereyes moved across the other objects. A cricket ball, trophies and several books which were evidently valuable antiques.

"Come on Molly, time to get out of here before someone notices" she whispered to no one.

She took another drink, cleared her throat and picked up her phone which shehadn't noticed until now.

Silently she closed the door of the house and turned to look at it wondering once again how she had ended up there in relative safety. She unlocked her phone and found she had a voicemail from Greg Lestrade, her sometimes friend and Inspector of Scotland Yard.

"Hi Molly, not sure when you're gonna get this but I'd appreciate if you dropped by when you can. It's about the Old Rope Poisoner case Sherlock and John were working on. Thanks and see you soon hopefully"

He had sent it around midnight and guessed it must be important if he had been working late. Feeling slightly groggy she flagged down a cab and climbed into the backseat. The journey felt like a lifetime and she was glad when the Yard came into view. She took a detour to the bathroom on the way and was glad she had. She looked at herself in the mirror and realised how dishevelled she looked. She pulled her hair into a more kempt ponytail and splashed some water on her face. A noise startled her but it was only another member of the force pushing open the door. She climbed the stairs trying to clear her head of the negative thoughts which had begun to wash over her again.

Greg smiled at her as she entered but she thought for a moment it faltered as his eyes caught hers. He didn't say anything though so maybe she had imagined it after all.

"Molly glad you could come. Something isn't adding up about this case and I'd like you're opinion."

"Yeah sure whatever I can do, has Sherlock not found him yet? He seemed pretty determined yesterday, like he knew"

"Well he hasn't rubbed my face in it yet, and actually hasn't been in touch since Saturday evening!" Something about this statement seemed odd as Saturday _had_ been yesterday, hadn't it? Asense of dread rose upin her as she began to worry that she hadn't only missed a night but more.

She slipped her phone out and checked the date on the lock screen.

 _Monday 24th October_

She felt faint and grasped the chair in front of her. This hadn't escaped Lestrade's attention and he moved across the office to her side.

"Molly come and sit down. I'll get you a glass of water. You aren't looking very well!" he said sounding concerned. She gladly accepted his offer and collapsed into the chair in front of his desk. Her hands were shaking and she was feeling slightly colder than she had. It was obvious she was suffering some sort of withdrawl effects from the cocaine and she needed get out of the office before anyone noticed. Before she could move, however, Lestrade was back and had a arm around her shoulder.

"You ok Molly?" he asked

"Yeah just a bit of a bug I think" she lied. "What was it you wanted my opinion on?"

"I think that can wait til you're feeling better. I can email it all onto you if you'd prefer and I'll get you taken home!" he responded. After a minute she agreed and Lestrade called a younger member to driver her home. She was glad to close the door behind her as the tears began to flow down her cheeks. The worst thing was that there was a nagging in the back of her mind once more..

 _You know what would stop the hurt...it would be better this time...Do it..just escape..._

Just then she heard a noise coming from the back of her flat and the young man from the day before came towards her at speed. She closed her eyes, there was nowhere to run and no chance of escape.

 **A/N: Think we'll leave it there for now...**


End file.
